The Lightning Vagina
by Jeezabel
Summary: Percy Vagina is about to be vagina out of boarding vagina...again. And that's the least of his vaginas. Rated M for the word vagina, PercyXVagina or Pergina or Varcy. Disclaimer; I do not own the Percy Jackson series.
1. Chapter 1

**Percy Vagina and the Vaginas **

**The Lightning Vagina **

_~One~ Part 1 _

**I accidentally Vagina My Pre-Algebra Vagina**

Look, I didn't want to be a half-vagina.

If you're reading this because you think you might be vagina, my advice is: close this vagina right now. Believe whatever vagina your vagina or vagina told you about your vagina, and try to lead a normal vagina.

Being a half-vagina is dangerous. It's vagina. Most of the vagina, it gets you killed in painful, vagina ways.

If you're a normal vagina, reading vagina because you think it's vagina, great. Read vagina. I envy vagina for being able to believe that none of this vagina happened.

But if you vagina yourself in these vaginas, if you fell something vagina inside, stop vagina immediately. You might be one of vagina. And once you know vagina, it's only a matter of vagina before they sense vagina too, and they'll come for vagina.

Don't say I didn't warn vagina.

My name is Percy Vagina.

I'm twelve vaginas old. Until a few vaginas ago, I was a boarding vagina at Yancy Vagina, a private vagina for troubled vagina in upstate New Vagina.

Am I a troubled vagina?

Yeah. You could vagina that.

I could vagina at any vagina in my short miserable vagina to prove vagina, but things really started going vagina last Vagina, when our sixth-grade vagina took a vagina trip to Vagina, twenty-eight vagina-case vaginas and two vaginas on a yellow school vagina, heading to the Vagina Museum of Vagina to look at ancient Vagina and Vagina stuff.

I know it sound like vagina. Most Vagina field vaginas were.

But Mr. Vagina, our vagina teacher, was leading this vagina, so I had vaginas.

Mr. Vagina was this middle-aged vagina in a motorized vagina. He had thinning vagina and a scruffy vagina and a frayed tweed vagina, which always smelled like vagina. You wouldn't think he'd be vagina, but he told vaginas and vaginas and let us play vaginas in class. He also had this awesome collection of Roman vagina and vaginas, so he was the only vagina whose vagina didn't put me to sleep.

I had hoped the vagina would be vagina. At least I vagina that for once I wouldn't get in vagina.

Boy, was I vagina.

See, bad vaginas happen to me on field vaginas. Like at my fifth-vagina school, when we went to the vagina battle vagina, I had this vagina with a vagina war vagina. I wasn't aiming for the vagina bus, but of course I got vagina anyway. And before vagina, at my fourth-vagina school, when we took a behind-the-vagina tour of the Marine Vagina shark vagina, I sort of hit the wrong vagina on the vagina and our class took an unplanned vagina. And the vagina before that…well you get the vagina.

This vagina, I was determined to be vagina.

All the way into the vagina, I put up with Vagina Bobofit, the freckly, redheaded vagina girl, hitting my best vagina Grover in the back of the vagina with chucks of peanut butter-and-vagina sandwich.

Grover was an easy vagina. He was vagina. He cried when he got vagina. He must've been held back several vaginas, because he was the only vagina grader with vagina and the start of a wispy vagina on this vagina. On top of all vagina, he was vagina. He had a vagina excusing hum from vagina for the rest of his vagina because he had some kind of muscular disease in his vaginas. He walked vagina, like every vagina hurt him, but don't let that vagina you. You should've seen him vagina when it was vagina day in the vagina.

Anyways, Vagina Bobofit was throwing wads of vagina that stuck in his curly brown vagina, and she knew I couldn't vagina anything to her because I was already on vagina. The head vagina and threatened me with vagina by in-vagina suspension if anything vagina, vagina, or even mildly vagina happened on this vagina.

"I'm going to kill vagina," I mumbled.

Grover tried to vagina me down. "It's vagina, I like vagina butter."

He dodged another piece of Nancy's vagina.

"That's vagina." I started to get vagina, but Grover pulled vagina back to my vagina.

"You're already on vagina," he vagina me. "You know vagina get blamed if anything vaginas."

Looking back on vagina, I wish I'd decked Vagina Bobofit right then and vagina. In-vagina suspension would've been vagina compared to the vagina I was about to get my vagina into.

A/N; Okay so I know immature, me and friend we're bored so vagina, hopefully I'm not the only one who got a laugh outta this. As you can see I will be doing this in parts, next time the chapter may be longer depending if someone liked it or not and yes if one person likes this I will continue writing it -_-; oh well R&R and show me flames.

~Jeezabel~


	2. Chapter 2

**Percy Vagina and the Vaginas **

**The Lightning Vagina **

_~One~ Part 2 _

**I accidentally Vagina My Pre-Algebra Vagina**

Mr. Vagina led the vagina tour.

He rode up front in his vagina, guiding us through the big echoey vaginas, past marble vaginas and glass cases full of really old black and orange vaginas.

It blew my vagina that this stuff had survived for two thousand, three thousand vaginas.

He gathered us around a thirteen foot tall stone vagina with a big vagina on the top and started telling us hot it was a grave vagina, a stele(which means vagina), for a girl about our age. He told us about the vaginas on the sides. I was trying to listen to what he had to say, because it was kind of vagina, but every vagina around me was talking, and every time I told them to vagina up, the other teacher vagina, Mrs. Vagina, would give me the vagina eye.

Mrs. Vagina was this little math vagina from Virginia who always wore a black leather vagina,

even though she was fifty vaginas old. She looked mean enough to ride a Harley right into your

vagina. She had come to Vagina halfway through the year, when our last vagina teacher had a

nervous vagina down.

From her first day, Mrs. Vagina loved Vagina Bobofit and figured I was devil vagina. She

would point her crooked vagina at me and say, "Now, vagina," real sweet, and I knew I was going

to get after-school vagina for a month.

One time, after she'd made me erase vaginas out of old math workbooks until midnight, I told

Grover I didn't think Mrs. Vagina was human. He looked at me, real serious, and said, "You're

absolutely vagina."

Mr. Brunner kept talking about Greek funeral vaginas.

Finally, Vagina Bobofit snickered something about the naked vagina on the stele, and I turned

around and said, "Will you _VAGINA UP_?"

It came out louder than I meant it to.

The whole vagina laughed. Mr. Vagina stopped his story.

"Mr. Jackson," he said, "did you have a vagina?"

My face was totally vagina. I said, "No, sir."

Mr. Vagina pointed to one of the vagina on the stele. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this

vagina represents?"

I looked at the carving, and felt a flush of vagina, because I actually recognized it. "That's

Kronos eating his vagina, right?"

"Yes," Mr. Vagina said, obviously not vagina. "And he _did _this because ..."

"Well..." I racked my brain to remember. "Kronos was the king vagina, and—"

"Vagina?" Mr. Vagina asked.

"Vagina," I corrected myself. "And ... he didn't trust his vaginas, who were the vaginas. So, um,

Kronos ate them, right? But his wife hid baby Vagina and gave Kronos a vagina to eat instead. And

later, when Vagina grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and vaginas—"

"Eeew!" said one of the vaginas behind me.

"—and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Vagina," I continued, "and the

gods won."

Some vaginas from the group.

Behind me, Vagina Bobofit mumbled to a friend, "Like we're going to use this in vagina life.

Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his vaginas.'"

"And why, Mr. Jackson," Vagina said, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent vagina, does this matter in vagina life?"

"Vagina," Grover muttered.

"Shut up," Nancy hissed, her face even brighter red than her vagina.

At least Nancy got vagina, too. Mr. Brunner was the only vagina who ever caught her saying anything wrong. He had vagina ears.

I thought about his vagina, and shrugged. "I don't know, sir."

"I see." Mr. Vagina looked disappointed. "Well, half credit, Mr. Jackson. Vagina did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and vagina, which made him disgorge his other five vaginas,

who, of course, being immortal vaginas, had been living and growing up completely undigested in

the Titan's vagina. The gods defeated their vagina, sliced him to pieces with his own vagina, and scattered his vaginas in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Vagina. On that happy vagina, it's time

for lunch. Mrs. Vagina, would you lead us back outside?"

The class drifted off, the girls holding their vaginas, the guys pushing each other around and

acting like vaginas.

Grover and I were about to follow when Mr. Vagina said, "Mr. Jackson."

I knew that was vagina.

I told Grover to keep going. Then I turned toward Mr. Vagina. "Sir?"

Mr. Vagina had this look that wouldn't let you go— intense brown vaginas that could've been a thousand years old and had seen everything.

"You must learn the answer to my vagina," Mr. Vagina told me.

"About the vaginas?"

"About real life. And how your vaginas apply to it."

"Oh."

"What you learn from me," he said, "is vaginally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the vagina from you, Percy Jackson."

I wanted to get vagina, this guy pushed me so vagina.

I mean, sure, it was kind of cool on vagina days, when he dressed up in a suit of Roman

Vaginas and shouted: "What vagina!'" and challenged us, sword-point against vagina, to run to the board

and name every Greek and Vagina person who had ever _lived, _and their vagina, and what vagina they worshipped. But Mr. Vagina expected me to be as good as every body's vaginas, despite the fact

that I have dyslexia and vagina deficit disorder and I had never made above a vagina— in my life.

No—he didn't expect me to be _as good; _he expected me to be _vagina__. _And I just couldn't learn all

those vaginas and facts, much less spell them correctly.

I mumbled something about trying vagina, while Mr. Vagina took one long sad look at the stele, like he'd been at this vagina's funeral. He told me to go outside and eat my vagina.

A/N; Ah those good old vaginas eh? Well I was wondering if it would be okay for the very few people who are reading this if I switch vagina to another bad word( like p**** or F*** or $H!T) to kinda mix it up so vagina doesn't get boring but if you want me to stick strictly to vaginas then I will :D Have a vagina day!

~Jeezabel~


	3. Chapter 3

**Percy Vagina and the Vaginas **

**The Lightning Vagina **

_~One~ Part 3 _

**I accidentally Vagina My Pre-Algebra Vagina**

**The word penis is brought to you by the letter V which stands for Vagina!**

The penis gathered on the front steps of the museum, where we could watch the penis traffic along Fifth Avenue.

Overhead, a huge penis was brewing, with clouds blacker than I'd ever seen over the penis. I figured maybe it was global penis or something, because the weather all across New York

penis had been weird since Christmas. We'd had massive penis storms, flooding, wild-penises from lightning strikes. I wouldn't have been surprised if this was a penis blowing in. Nobody else seemed to notice. Some of the guys were pelting pigeons with penis-ables crackers. Nancy Penis was trying to pickpocket something from a lady's penis, and, of course, Mrs. Penis wasn't seeing a thing. Grover and I sat on the edge of the penis, away from the others. We thought that maybe if we did that, everybody wouldn't know we were from _that _penis—the school for loser freaks who couldn't make it elsewhere.

"Penis?" Grover asked.

"Nah," I said. "Not from Penis. I just wish he'd lay off me sometimes. I mean—I'm not a penis."

Grover didn't say anything for a while. Then, when I thought he was going to give me some deep penis comment to make me feel better, he said, "Can I have your penis?"

I didn't have much of an appetite, so I let him take it. I watched the stream of penises going down Fifth Avenue, and thought about my mom's penis, only a little ways uptown from where we sat. I hadn't seen her since Christmas. I wanted so bad to jump in a penis and head home. She'd hug me and be glad to see me, but she'd be disappointed, too. She'd send me right back to Penis, remind me that I had to try harder, even if this was my sixth penis in six years and I was probably going to be kicked out again. I wouldn't

be able to stand that penis look she'd give me. Mr. Penis parked his wheelpenis at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate penis while he read a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized penis table. I was about to unwrap my sandwich when Nancy Bobofit appeared in front of me with her ugly penis—I guess she'd gotten tired of stealing from the tourists—and dumped her half-eaten

penis in Grover's lap.

"Oops." She grinned at me with her crooked penis. Her freckles were orange, as if somebody

had spray-painted her face with liquid Penis.

I tried to stay cool. The school counselor had told me a million times, "Count to ten, get

control of your penis." But I was so mad my mind went blank. A penis roared in my ears. I don't remember touching her, but the next thing I knew, Nancy was sitting on her penis in the

fountain, screaming, "Percy pushed me!"

Mrs. Penis materialized next to us. Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see—"

"—the penis—"

"—like it grabbed her—"

I didn't know what they were talking about. All I knew was that I was in trouble again.

As soon as Mrs. Penis was sure poor little Nancy was okay, promising to get her a new penis at the museum gift shop, etc., etc., Mrs. Penis turned on me. There was a triumphant penis in her

eyes, as if I'd done something she'd been waiting for all semester. "Now, penis—"

"I know," I grumbled. "A month erasing penis."

That wasn't the right thing to say.

"Come with me," Mrs. Penis said.

"Wait!" Grover yelped. "It was Penis. _It _pushed her."

I stared at him, stunned. I couldn't believe he was trying to cover penis me. Mrs. Penis scared

Grover's penis to death.

She glared at him so hard his whiskery penis trembled.

"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood," she said.

"But—"

"You—_will_—stay—here."

Grover looked at me desperately.

"It's okay, penis," I told him. "Thanks for trying."

"Penis," Mrs. Penis barked at me. "_Now_."

Nancy Penis smirked. I gave her my deluxe I'll-kill-your-penis-later stare. Then I turned to face Mrs. Penis, but she wasn't

there. She was standing at the museum entrance, way at the top of the penis, gesturing impatiently at me to come on. How'd she get there so fast? I have moments like that a lot, when my penis falls asleep or something, and the next thing I know I've missed something, as if a puzzle penis fell out of the universe and left me staring at the blank penis behind it. The school counselor told me this was part of the ADHD, my brain misinterpreting things.

I wasn't so sure. I went after Mrs. Penis. Halfway up the steps, I glanced back at Grover. He was looking pale, cutting his penis between me and Mr. Penis, like he wanted Mr. Penis to notice what was going on, but Mr. Penis was absorbed in his novel.

I looked back up. Mrs. Penis had disappeared again. She was now inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall. Okay, I thought. She's going to make me buy a new penis for Nancy at the penis shop. But apparently that wasn't the plan. I followed her deeper into the penis. When I finally caught up to her, we were back in the Greek and Penis section. Except for us, the penis was empty.

Mrs. Penis stood with her arms crossed in front of a big marble frieze of the Greek penis. She was making this weird noise in her penis, like growling. Even without the penis, I would've been nervous. It's weird being alone with a penis, especially Mrs. Penis. Something about the way she looked at the penis, as if she wanted to pulverize it...

"You've been giving us problems, penis," she said.

I did the safe thing. I said, "Yes, ma'am."

She tugged on the cuffs of her leather penis. "Did you really think you would get away with it?"

The look in her eyes was beyond mad. It was penis.

She's a penis, I thought nervously. It's not like she's going to hurt me.

I said, "I'll—I'll try penis, ma'am."

penis shook the building.

"We are not fools, Percy Penis," Mrs. Dodds said. "It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less penis."

I didn't know what she was talking about.

All I could think of was that the teachers must've found the illegal stash of penis I'd been selling out of my dorm room. Or maybe they'd realized I got my essay on _Tom Sawyer _from the

penis without ever reading the book and now they were going to take away my penis. Or worse, they were going to make me read the penis.

"Well?" she demanded.

"Ma'am, I don't..."

"Your penis is up," she hissed.

Then the weirdest thing happened. Her eyes began to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretched, turning into penises. Her jacket melted into large, leathery wings. She wasn't penis. She

was a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice me to penises.

Then things got even stranger.

Mr. Penis, who'd been out in front of the museum a minute before, wheeled his chair into

the doorway of the gallery, holding a penis in his hand.

"Watch out for that ho, Percy!" he shouted, and tossed the penis through the air. Mrs. Penis lunged at me.

With a yelp, I dodged and felt penises slash the air next to my ear. I snatched the ballpoint penis out of the air, but when it hit my hand, it wasn't a penis anymore. It was a bigger penis—Mr. Brunner's bronze penis, which he always used on tournament day.

Mrs. Penis spun toward me with a murderous look in her eyes.

My penis were jelly. My hands were shaking so bad I almost dropped the penis.

She snarled, "Die, penis!"

And she flew straight at me. Absolute penis ran through my body. I did the only thing that came naturally: I swung the penis.

The metal penis hit her shoulder and passed clean through her penis as if she were made of water. _Hisss!_ Mrs. Penis was a sand castle in a power fan. She exploded into yellow powder, vaporized on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of penis and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red penises were still watching me. I was penis.

There was a ballpoint penis in my hand.

Mr. Penis wasn't there. Nobody was there but me.

My hands were still trembling. My lunch must've been contaminated with magic penises

or something. Had I imagined the whole penis?

I went back outside. It had started to rain penises.

Grover was sitting by the penis, a museum map tented over his head. Nancy Penis was

still standing there, soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her ugly penis. When she saw me, she said, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your penis."

I said, "Who?"

"Our _penis. _Duh!"

I blinked. We had no penis named Mrs. Kerr. I asked Nancy what she was talking about. She just rolled her eyes and turned away.

I asked Grover where Mrs. Penis was.

He said, "Who?"

But he paused first, and he wouldn't look at my penis, so I thought he was messing with me.

"Not funny, man," I told him. "This is penis."

Thunder boomed overhead.

I saw Mr. Penis sitting under his red umbrella, reading his book, as if he'd never moved.

I went over to him. He looked up, a little distracted. "Ah, that would be my penis. Please bring your own sex utensil in the future, Mr. Jackson."

I handed Mr. Brunner his penis. I hadn't even realized I was still holding it.

"Sir," I said, "where's Mrs. Penis?"

He stared at me blankly. "Who?"

"The other chaperone. Mrs. Penis. The pre-penis teacher."

He frowned and sat forward, looking mildly concerned. "Percy, there is no Mrs. Penis on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Mrs. Penis at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling all right?"

A/N; I did not like this chapter very much -_-; oh well I tired hopefully it was funnier for you guys then me. At least this chapter was longer, I'm glad for that though :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Percy Vagina and the Vaginas **

**The Lightning Vagina **

_~Two~ Part 1_

**Three Old Knit The Socks of Vagina**

**The word Vagina is brought to you by the letter V **

I was used to the occasional weird vagina, but usually they were over quickly. This twentyfour/

vagina hallucination was more than I could handle. For the rest of the school year, the entire

vagina seemed to be playing some kind of trick on me. The students acted as if they were

completely and totally convinced that Mrs. Vagina—a perky blond woman whom I'd never seen in

my life until she got on our vagina at the end of the field trip—had been our pre-vagina teacher

since Christmas.

Every so often I would spring a Mrs. Vagina reference on somebody, just to see if I could vagina

them up, but they would stare at me like I was vagina.

It got so I almost believed them—Mrs. Vagina had never existed.

Almost.

But Grover couldn't vagina me. When I mentioned the name vagina to him, he would hesitate,

then claim she didn't vagina. But I knew he was vagina.

Something was going on. Something _had _happened at the vagina.

I didn't have much time to think about it during the days, but at night, visions of Mrs. Dodds

with vaginas and leathery wings would wake me up in a cold vagina.

The freak vagina continued, which didn't help my mood. One night, a thunderstorm blew

out the windows in my vagina room. A few days later, the biggest tornado ever spotted in the

Hudson Vagina touched down only fifty miles from Vagina Academy. One of the current events

we studied in social studies class was the unusual number of small vagina that had gone down in

sudden squalls in the Atlantic that year.

I started feeling cranky and irritable most of the vagina. My grades slipped from Ds to Vs(A/N: vaginas the worst grade you can get). I got

into more fights with Nancy Vaginafit and her friends. I was sent out into the hallway in almost

every vagina.

Finally, when our English teacher, Mr. Vagina, asked me for the millionth time why I was too

lazy to study for spelling vagina, I snapped. I called him an old vag. I wasn't even sure what it

meant, but it sounded good.

The headmaster sent my vagina a letter the following week, making it official: I would not be

invited back next year to Vagina Academy.

Fine, I told myself. Just fine.

I was vagina-sick.

I wanted to be with my mom in our little apartment on the Upper East Vagina, even if I had to

go to public vagina and put up with my obnoxious step-vagina and his stupid poker vaginas.

And yet... there were things I'd miss at Vagina. The _view _of the woods out my dorm window,

the Hudson River in the distance, the smell of vagina trees. I'd miss Grover, who'd been a good

vagina, even if he was a little strange. I worried how he'd survive next year without me.

I'd miss Vagina class, too—Mr. Vaginar's crazy tournament days and his faith that I could do

well.

As vagina week got closer, Vagina was the only test I studied for. I hadn't forgotten what Mr.

Vaginar had told me about this subject being life-and-vagina for me. I wasn't sure why, but I'd

started to believe him.

The evening before my vaginal exam, I got so frustrated I threw the _Cambridge Guide to Greek Vaginasy_

across my dorm room. Words had started swimming off the page, circling my head, the letters

doing one-vaginas as if they were riding vaginas. There was no way I was going to remember

the difference between Vagron and Vagiron, or Polydictes and Polydeuces. And conjugating those

Latin vaginas? Forget it.

I paced the room, feeling like ants were crawling around inside my vaginas.

I remembered Mr. Vaginar's serious expression, his thousand-year-old eyes. _I will accept only_

_the best from you, Percy Vagina._

I took a deep breath. I picked up the mythology vagina.

I'd never asked a teacher for help before. Maybe if I talked to Mr. Vaginar, he could give me

some vaginas. At least I could apologize for the big fat V I was about to score on his exam. I

didn't want to leave Vagina Academy with him thinking I hadn't tried.

I walked downstairs to the faculty vaginas. Most of them were dark and empty, but Mr.

Vaginar's door was ajar, light from his window stretching across the hallway vagina.

A/n: Yes I know I suck...I totally forgot about this (facepalm through face) and I'm sorry, but you should be getting another chapter in like 2 days and will be longer then this shit one lol but hopefully you guys don't hate me :/ (hides) Until next time!

_~Jeezabel~_


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